


Scorging Hot

by Bartkartoffeln



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Care, M/M, Medical Experimentation (mentioned), NSFW, Sex, Trauma, Trust, abuse (mentioned), blood (mentioned), torture (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21760957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bartkartoffeln/pseuds/Bartkartoffeln
Summary: Many times now Essek has come by and taught Caleb spells. In return, he gets to ask some questions - only this time, the question leads to something deeper, darker. In the attempt to wrestle the demons inside Caleb's mind and heart, the Shadowhand is using a slightly unconventional approach, leading to quite some unraveling.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 26
Kudos: 264





	1. Cool

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the title is an intended pun. ;)  
> The first two chapters are a bit darker and has mentions of trauma, abuse and torture, but no explicit descriptions. Please be aware of these warnings anyway. However, this is not a story that will dwell on darkness. It will turn into a VERY bright flame very quickly... (I don't think Caleb knows the word 'slow burn' (wow, that was kinda dark), and also four chapters are certainly not enough to even call it that)
> 
> The premise for this story is, that Caleb and Essek do have kind of a professional (?) friendship. They are comfortable around each other, and while intimacies certainly are not common, they do enjoy each others company a lot, having built some trust.

The Xhorhaus was quiet today. Most of its denizens where out and about, exploring the many things Rosohna had to offer, and Essek was quite frankly not sad about it.  
Aside from Caduceus inquiring after their needs once, there had not been disturbances so far.

He was lounging on Caleb’s chaise longue, flipping idly through a romance book he’d found in one of the still far too empty shelves of the Xhorhaus, while his newest student sat at the table over inks and quills and pages to transcribe. Beside Essek on the chaise, Frumpkin was curled up with eyes closed, seemingly asleep - but of course, familiars didn’t really sleep. 

When Caleb cleared his throat softly, he looked up from his saucy read, placing the book aside at once.   
“Yes?”

“I think I’m done for today, Essek. Thank you for your patronage.” The cerulean eyes darted away, once he tried to capture their gaze. 

The Shadowhand looked at the open spell book on the table, nodding.   
“May I see? I have been curious about your spell book for some time now. Would you care to share your own knowledge?” The drow asked calmly, but Caleb flinched in surprise nevertheless. 

Clearly flustered he closed his spell book, blinking. Finally, after a few moments, he nodded. “Of course. It is just.. I don’t think I have to offer anything.”  
Reluctantly, he handed out his most precious item, his life and heart blood. 

Essek rose gracefully from the chaise, drifting towards Caleb with a smirk. “Don’t worry. I will handle it with utmost care.”  
Long, elegant fingers closed around the edges of the book, taking it slowly. He held the other mage’s gaze this time, but it was the scars on the forearms that had his attention once more.

Pondering, the Shadowhand weighed the spell book in his hand. He was curious what it had to offer, what secrets it might contain he had not yet seen.   
But he was more curious about the haunting past of Caleb Widogast. Without even having flipped it open once, Essek handed back the spell collection.  
“No. Not today. Today, I want you to tell me something else.”

Surprise and worry and anticipation laid themselves like layers over the human’s face. He clutched his book to the chest like a shield, looking up at Essek anxiously. 

“Tell me what it means to become a Scourger. Tell me about your training. Your education.”

The color drained immediately from Caleb’s face. He lowered his gaze to the floor, knuckles white now from how intensely he held his book. Single strands of red fell into his face, while he bit his lower lip heavily. The room was thick with a sudden tension in the air.

Essek bent forward, and his fingers touched Caleb’s forearms, slowly making their way towards the spell book, prying it from the man’s grasp.   
With an unfocused stare, he let it happen, breathing flatly as the drow placed the tome onto the table.

“Come,” Essek beckoned softly, weaving his fingers between Caleb’s, drawing him from his seat towards the chaise. He followed numbly. 

The Shadowhand sat down, gesturing elegantly to the space at his side. Frumpkin, disturbed by his master’s unease and shock, opened his eyes and finally got up to leave his place, jumping deftly to the floor and onto the study table to lie on the spell book instead. 

Mechanically, Caleb sat, giving off a sound of surprise, when the drow pulled him lower, until he had no choice but to lie on his back, his head resting on one of Essek’s thighs. Blue eyes darted upwards frantically, as if looking for danger. 

“Be at ease. No harm will come to you in my presence, Caleb Widogast.” Essek said with one of his easy smirks. He snipped his fingers, and a deep silence settled over the room, only disturbed by the crackling fire in the chimney and Frumpkin’s cat sounds.   
“Now. Relax. And tell me what you can tell me.”

The human pressed his lips together, averting his gaze once more, breathing flatly. Seconds passed, then minutes. Slowly, the man became calmer, more centered. And finally, he started talking.

“I don’t know what you want to hear. It was a harsh time. Cruel, often. But honest - that is what I believed at first - and fruitful and exciting. We were poor, very poor. So it was a great gift that the academy took me in, telling my parents I showed great potential.  
Many lessons were normal. The basics of the Arcane, lessons on history, learning how to write and draw straight lines, component studies..”

Essek allowed himself to weave his fingers through the long tresses of red hair, loosening the hair ribbon bit by bit. After careful inspection, Caleb did not seem to mind that. On the contrary, he closed his eyes almost peacefully. 

He continued. “Ikithon Trent, he.. He was looking for something specific in us. Over the years, the training became harder, of course. He set us upon the path of a scourger without asking us. Our lessons taught us how to be quick in dire situations. Situations he crafted. Dangerous situations. Many times we left them with wounds, battered and scarred.”  
Caleb’s breath hitched with unease, his hands twitching. 

Softly, gently, Essek wove his fingers through his hair again and again, waiting patiently. 

Voice less steady now, the other mage continued.   
“We learned to be silent, even when we hurt. This was almost at the end of the education, graduation only a year away. He pretended to capture us. It was a game of .. torture and endurance. Mentally, physically. Very hard. We also learned what to do when we were the ones who needed to get information from others. We gave pain, and we received pain..”

Caleb opened his eyes now, tensing abruptly. Essek halted his own doings, watching the man closely. Those captivating eyes darted around so quickly, almost as if he re-lived these memories he was talking about.  
Suddenly, the man looked directly into Essek’s eyes, a piercing, unexpectedly firm gaze that caught the Shadowhand off-guard, sending a shiver down his spine. 

It was a ghost of the past, a vision of what the man once had been. It shattered as fast as it had happened. 

The other mage took a deep breath, averting his eyes again. “And then, of course, the experiments. I believe these interest you as well, ja?”

“You guess correctly,” Essek answered.

Caleb gave a nod. “He bound us to a chair, in the middle of an intricate rune circle. I never found out what chalk he used. I never found one that matched his. But I remember the pattern exactly.  
He bound us, and then he took a mithril scalpel and cut our forearms. They were not random cuts. He always checked with his notes, every cut a precise length and depth and place. After, he always left the room, leaving us to bleed.”

Again, the man tensed. Essek reached out, touching one of Caleb’s sweaty hands clenched around the folds of his tunic. The other mage gripped it, almost desperately, trying to force his breathing to be even. 

“So we bled. Trent returned, always exactly half an hour later, and carried a tray of refined residuum crystals. It was the purest and best kind, formed like a blade on one end. One by one, he pushed the blade side into the cuts. It was excruciating. They reacted with the pattern on the floor, I think.  
I passed out after a minute, usually. The more crystals he planted, the more I saw flashes of memories, but I think they were alternate timelines. Memories of.. Another Caleb.”  
The human shuddered. 

Essek furrowed his brow, tilting his head ever so slightly. Memories of another Caleb? This sounded very familiar.

Before he could ponder more on that topic, Caleb rose abruptly, fleeing the chaise. He had his arms wrapped around himself, agitated walking up and down the room with cold sweat on his forehead. 

The Shadowhand cast his questions aside for the moment. Slowly, he stood, catching the attention of the other mage. The man looked at him like a wounded animal, ready to either flee or fight.  
It was unsurprising that the cruel lessons and experiments had left their marks on Caleb’s soul. The question was, if he, Essek, was able to unravel some of the damage..

Looking into those hounded, blue eyes, there was one thing he could think of. A dangerous thing.   
An exciting thing.   
And maybe he could even manage to satisfy more of his curiosity at the same time.

“Show me,” he demanded. 


	2. Warm

“Excuse me?”  
Caleb stared at him, back straight and eyes wide.

“Show me what he did to you. The pattern. The cuts. I shall be the one on the chair - and you the one in control,” Essek elaborated with a tiny smile.  
Patiently, he waited for Caleb’s response.

The man frowned, but remained silent before he eventually shook his head. “Why would you do that? I can show you the pattern. There is no need for you to become.. To be.. On the chair. I could hurt you.”

“Oh, I am aware, Caleb. I trust you enough to not actually hurt me. Aside from my curiosity, my hope is that re-living this memory within a different context might help you to appease some of your inner demons,” the Shadowhand explained, starting to unclasp his long cloak.   
With a gentle _thud_ , his feet hit the ground when he dropped out of his levitation spell.

Do not get too close, to not emphasize too much, they always told him.   
But he did. And he wanted to. His own training was in many ways not dissimilar to Caleb’s, though it was without the abuse and entirely built on consent. He knew torture and pain, but only from the giving end.  
He knew how to manipulate minds.  
A Shadowhand was taught to extract information, but they were not a spy, nor an assassin. 

But if his manipulation skills were good for getting information, by the Luxon, they must be good for something else as well. He wanted to provide healing, even if it was only mediocre.

He floated his coat over to the door and hung it with a wave of his hand beside Caleb’s, while at the same time smirking boldly at the man. His terror was obvious, much to Essek’s regret. Their relationship had grown more cordial over the past months, but their friendship was still less established than their somewhat polite distance as wizards of different levels of knowledge.

“I offer you this opportunity, Caleb. It is your decision alone if you want to seize it. I am willing to place myself into your hands for a certain amount of time, as long as you do give me some means of stopping whatever it is you are doing.”

Caleb blinked rapidly for a moment. He looked around the room, rubbing his temples nervously and with shaky fingers. Essek did not push him. As always, he waited patiently, allowing the man to have the space and time to come to a decision.

With a hitched breath the human closed his eyes, shaking his head. “No. I think it is better the other way round. I sit on the chair. But I am still in control. And you follow my instructions. I want memories that are kinder.”

Surprised, Essek considered this. With a shrug, he agreed. “It might work, yes. You will still have to draw the rune circle - it is barely achievable to do that with descriptions only.”

Caleb nodded slowly. He fetched a piece of simple chalk, not magical one, from a box on the desk and gestured for Essek to sit on the chaise again while he was working.  
The Shadowhand watched quietly how he pulled aside the rug, rolling and stowing it in a corner. He watched Caleb begin his work, drawing the inner circle, adorning it with runes, adding a middle circle, adorning it with runes…

He understood very soon what this was, but he kept his quiet.   
When the other mage drew the outer circle, Essek rose from the chaise. Caleb stood as well - he’d not quite closed the circle, probably too afraid what it might do - and laid aside his chalk.

“You, ah.. Have to blind me until I sit on the chair and am bound. You have to bind the ankles to the chair, and the chest, and the arms, twice. Then take off the blindfold,” Caleb explained nervously. He rolled up his sleeves farther, fingers shaking now. 

Essek touched the man’s shoulder. “I will do as you tell me. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.” He sounded certain.  
Silently, he stepped towards the door, looking at Essek expectantly. 

With a last look towards the intricate rune circle, the drow approached Caleb, circling him, getting behind him. From the depths of his dimensional pocket, he summoned his scarf, draping it over the man’s eyes and knotting it behind his head. 

The human tensed, but when he led him to the chair, he followed obediently.  
Essek brought his mouth close to Caleb’s left ear. “Whenever you want to stop, say ‘Xhorhaus’, and I will unbind you immediately.”

Shuddering, the man nodded and sat down. Essek cast Immovable Object on the chair, looking around for means to bind the other wizard. The only thing he saw was the book holster, but it would hardly suffice.

His eyes fell upon Caleb’s scarf. Silently, he took it from the hook by the door, went to the table and cut it up. He could still mend it later without trouble, as long as the pieces remained intact.   
Essek bound Caleb’s ankles to the chair, his wrists and forearms, then took away his scarf from the man’s eyes to use it for binding his chest to the chair as well.

It was an odd feeling, having the Empire wizard bound like this, amidst a dunamancy rune circle that was kind of twisted and not at all right in his eyes.   
Calmly, he stepped in front of Caleb, looking at him, waiting for more instructions. 

He swallowed, clearing his throat.   
“Pretend to set the cuts? He was often wondering aloud.. How long we would remain conscious, telling us to remain silent.. Telling us to.. Show no emotion..”

Essek tilted his head, laying a finger against his chin. He picked up the chalk from the desk and bent over Caleb, who immediately looked away, his face suddenly expressionless.  
Gently, he caught the man’s chin and forced him to look at him.  
“No. I do not want you to be silent. And I want to see it. I want to see all your emotion,” he ordered.

Caleb’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“I said you are safe with me. You can be yourself, Caleb Widogast..”

“Bren,” Caleb whispered with hoarse voice. “I.. my name was Bren..”

Raising an eyebrow, Essek bent down further, his breath caressing the man’s left ear, while he put the tip of the chalk against the uppermost scar on his left arm.  
“You are safe with me, Bren. I will cut into your soul, but this time, it will be for healing. Do not close off yourself. Set free your demons and let me handle them.”  
And with that, he drew the chalk over the scar in one short, exact movement.

Caleb drew a hitched breath, tensing. 

“You are a man with free will. No one is allowed to take it away or make decisions for you,” Essek continued, drawing over another scar.  
“You have forged your own way.”  
Another.  
“You found yourself a family that appreciates and loves you.”  
Another.

Caleb was shaking. His knuckles were white where he clasped the end of the arm rest, and tears started to well in his eyes.

“Despite the things they did to you, you are compassionate, strong and kind,” Essek continued, covering scar after scar with every sentence.  
“Despite the things they made you do, you are a good person, worthy of love.”

The other wizard gave a muffled cry, pressing his lips together. He looked into Essek’s eyes, tears welling.  
“No. I am worthless. I have done cruel things, evil things. I killed my own parents, I..”

“And why did you do it?” Essek asked, the chalk hovering over the next scar.

“Because.. I thought.. They were traitors. They manipulated my memories, convinced me it was true, _he_ convinced me…” Caleb sobbed.

“And does anyone think that makes you guilty? I don’t. Your friends don’t. Do you? Do you truly think this evil thing an evil man made you do, makes you guilty?”   
When he tried to avert his eyes, Essek caught his chin again, piercing him with his gaze.  
“Do you?”

Tears streaked down the pale cheeks. “No,” he whispered, barely audible, closing his eyes.  
The Shadowhand wove his fingers through the long tresses of beautiful reddish hair, ever so gently, his own heart breaking a little bit despite his training.

Caleb was still sobbing, slouching as much as the restraints allowed. 

Essek went down on one knee and carressed the man’s cheek.. It was hot and wet to the touch.  
“You are the last one left who needs to forgive yourself. Everyone else already did, Caleb Widogast.”

The blue eyes opened, glossy and reddened from the tears, brows drawn together in turmoil and sadness. 

Essek started unbinding him from the chair, giving him back his freedom. He laid out the pieces of cut up scarf and mended them back together. Folding the beautiful cloth, he put it aside, summoning one of his silken handkerchiefs to hand out to Caleb.  
The man was still sitting in the chair, looking beaten and exhausted, rubbing his forearms absently, not reacting to his offer. 

He looked haunted.

The drow remembered his promise to deal with the demons, Caleb would let out.   
Stepping behind the man, he laid his hand under his chin, making him lay back his head against Essek’s body. Blue eyes stared at him, so sadly. With gentle touch, he took his handkerchief to dab away the tears bit by bit.   
He dabbed all the way down the throat, where they had wandered deeper and finally had started to soak the seam of the tunic.

Caleb closed his eyes again, letting him take care of this mess. When the skin was dry again, Essek’s dabbing became the featherlight touch of fingertips caressing the neck, the ears, the cheeks. 

He showed all his appreciation for the handsome features of the exhausted Empire wizard by touch. Slowly, the skin under his fingers started to warm, to heat up. Healthy red flushed the neck and cheeks, and the breathing became more even - but the heartbeat sped up. Essek could clearly see the elevated pulse, throbbing in the little hollow of Caleb's neck.

When the blue eyes opened once more, they were still glossy, but it seemed for a different reason this time.   
“You were not lying. You do take care of my demons,” Caleb murmured, voice hoarse and dark.

“Of course,” Essek replied with a soft smile. 

“I am still in the chair.”

The drow lifted an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“That means, I am still in charge, ja?”

Essek gave a low chuckle. “Why, I think you are, Caleb Widogast. Though if I do what you demand of me is still for me to decide.”

Sluggishly, the man nodded, but he did not avert his eyes. Not this time.   
“Kiss me,” he demanded boldly, but his breath hitched at the same time in anticipation. 

The Shadowhand lifted an eyebrow again, his smile turning smug. He held Caleb’s face in both hands and bent down, brushing his lips against the man’s, inhaling his scent with delight. 

A hand sneaked behind his head and fingers in his hair as the other wizard held him there, their lips barely an inch apart now. 

Caleb cleared his throat. “My demons are more insatiable than that,” he said.


	3. Sizzling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb wants to forge new, better memories, giving his own training a different context.  
> This chapter and the following are VERY nsfw!

“I see,” the drow replied with deep amusement in his voice. He went for another kiss, opening his mouth when Caleb opened his, their tongues intertwining slowly. Essek felt his ears grow hot and his pulse speeding up. 

Finally the other man pulled back his hand, rising from the chair, his gaze unexpectedly firm. “Do you truly trust me enough? Enough to.. Ah.. change places?” He asked, and there was a twinge of sudden excitement in Essek’s stomach. 

“Elaborate,” he demanded.

The other wizard looked away with burning cheeks, but in his eyes was still determination. “I want to bind you to the chair, so I can be in control. It is similar to my training.. Having control over someone.. But I want to use it to bring good memories. Nice things. Sweet.. Things.”  
He looked up.  
“I want to have your trust and your desire.”

The drow raised an eyebrow, the excitement in his stomach churning, though he kept it from showing on his face.  
“Will you remember to stop, no matter what, when I say ‘Xhorhaus’?” Essek asked, his voice steel for a second.

Caleb nodded. “I swear I will. I will not hurt you.”  
He looked towards the Dynasty wizard, obviously waiting for him to decide if he would play this game or not.

Essek drifted closer with a smile. “I shall keep my word and satisfy your demons - and my curiosity. I am looking forward to this trial of yours…”

With a nod, Caleb gripped the chair, and Essek’s smile was pure satisfaction when the other man looked utterly puzzled as the chair did not move at all. 

“Immovable Object,” the drow offered as explanation, waving his hand to dismiss the spell.

Caleb blinked. “Clever,” he murmured, before taking the chair away, exchanging it for the one without armrests. He, too, fetched some precious gold dust, and cast the same spell, holding the chair in place no matter what would happen.

Elegantly, the drow sank down on it, watching the other man with bright eyes. He resisted the urge to lick his suddenly dry lips, when Caleb picked up the scarf again. The other wizard wove it behind his back and in and out between the bars of the backrest, around his arms, down to his wrists and around them, binding them together before he knotted the scarf’s ends.  
It was a very effective way to bind someone to a chair.  
Elegant as well.

When Caleb took up the second scarf - Essek’s scarf - the drow’s eyes widened. Now it was his breath hitching, when the other man returned, wrapping the scarf deftly around his head, over his eyes, robbing him of his sight as well. Essek twitched, but he did not say anything.

Fingers brushed through his hair, then traced his cheek bone back to his ears, up, up all the way to the sensible tips, rubbing them curiously. He shuddered. The sensation was much more intense with his sight gone.   
The trail continued, down now, along his jawline, thumbs caressing his lips. Caleb used both hands for everything, silently exploring Essek’s features.. 

His fingers slipped deeper, down the neck, over the length of both collarbones to the shoulders and back again and to his chest. The thin layer of cloth was carrying the touch far too well.  
Essek swallowed hard, his pulse throbbing heavily. 

Down a bit further, and Caleb rested his hands flat against the drow’s chest, just where the pecs were about to end. When he rubbed his thumbs over Essek’s nipples, the drow moaned loudly, the delicious sparks flaring up his body rapidly, making him jerk against his restraints.

Caleb continued onwards, leaving it at this one touch. It was almost frustrating.  
He explored the slender torso diligently through the fabric of the Dynasty wizard’s silken tunic, and he took his sweet time. It felt like he was truly savoring this.  
Did the breath of the man sounded a bit ragged as well? Essek wasn’t sure.

When Caleb’s hands finally wandered down even deeper, Essek was writhing, and he was aroused in a way he had never experienced before. He welcomed the sensation, allowed himself to fall into it instead of masking his emotions like usual.   
He was in the hands of this man, Caleb Widogast, and the Empire wizard knew how to make use of it.

Fingers slipped over his belly towards his nethers and stopped for a moment, before a hand stroked over the bulge between his slightly spread legs. Essek moaned again, throwing his head back in pleasure, spreading his legs even wider.  
And there it was, he heard it, the delicious hitch in Caleb’s breath. Of course, all of this wouldn’t leave the man cold, would it?  
Having the Shadowhand at his fingertips, unraveled and aroused.

“Are you.. Are you still okay?” Caleb suddenly asked, piercing through the veil of silence. 

The Shadowhand forced himself out of his salacious haze for a moment.  
“Yes. Continue,” he replied, his own voice husky and dark and not silken at all.

Hands again, holding his head upright. Nothing happened at first, but he thought he could feel Caleb bend closer, still.   
Lips pressed onto his, luring him into a deep, hungry kiss, slow and devouring, burning itself into his memory. The other mage protracted it, longer and longer, stealing his breath away.

Essek moaned, softly, in pleasure and in frustration. He wished he could see Caleb’s face while he was doing all these enticing things, a slow exquisite seduction. He didn’t know if the frustration was palpable to Caleb. If it was, he didn’t act on it.

Instead, the man stuck to his plan, it seemed.  
After the kiss, the other wizard’s mouth wandered to the cheekbones again, lips brushing, kissing their way towards Essek’s right ear.

A hot tongue licked its way up to the tip, where Caleb sucked it gently between his teeth.   
Essek jerked again on the chair, his moan even louder. Not only were his ears very sensitive, the sucking also very clearly was like an allusion to other body parts. Aroused body parts.

Breathing heavily now, he writhed in his restraints. Unfazed, the other man continued his sweet torture, lingering at the ear and its tip a bit longer. 

Then, he allowed Essek to lay back his head again, only to kiss his way down the throat and to the collarbone, sometimes grazing with his teeth. 

It drove Essek mad. His heartbeat was in a frenzy as well.

He twitched when fingers slipped under his silken tunic, shoving it higher, craving more of this skin-to-skin touch. But the hands did not attend to his nipples, nor caress him much. Caleb stuck very accurately to the motto of the second exploration, which obviously was ‘mouth’. 

He did not disappoint. The other man’s hot tongue licked over Essek’s hard nipples, sending sparks and shivers through his body, making him bite his lower lip to stifle another moan.  
Caleb kissed and closed his lips around them, licked them again. He traced the outline of the pectoral muscles with his tongue, placing bites and kisses gently here, gently there.

The want became almost unbearable now, Essek’s breeches too tight for the hardness inside them. Sweat beaded on his dark skin, only to be kissed away here and there by this far too talented mouth.   
He wanted Caleb to take away his clothes, to allow his arousal to be free. 

“Caleb. Please,” he heard himself beg. So this what this man had driven him to. Begging. The Shadowhand, bound to a chair, at the mercy of an Empire wizard, _begging_ him to allow him sweet release.  
It was madness. Utter folly. 

He regretted nothing, moaning hoarsely when Caleb kissed his way deeper, from the nipples down the torso, hands laid slightly on his hips.   
They slipped towards Essek’s waistband, pulling. 

He lifted his bottom, so that the other man was able to pull down the pants he was wearing. The searing heat of Caleb’s mouth vanished when he took off Essek’s boots and socks, so he could remove the pants entirely. 

That was so much better already. Relief washed over him and he let out a deep breath. It turned into a cry, as the hot mouth of the wizard closed over the bulge in his breeches, sucking, exploring, pushing him closer to the brink.   
It didn’t last for long. The warmth vanished soon, along with Caleb’s presence.

Essek winced despite himself, and for the first time, a tiny bit of doubt crept into his heart. What if the wizard would just go now, leaving him here, exposed, naked, aroused?

He heard the rustling of fabric, a Zemnian curse muttered under breath. The sounds of rummaging. The sound of naked feet?

It came closer, that sound, and a considerable weight dropped onto his lap, hot, naked skin on his.  
Behind the blindfold, Essek’s eyes widened even more when he realized that Caleb was just as naked as him. 

And when a hand closed around his erection, rubbing it against another one, the heat inside him flared to heights that made him delightfully dizzy.

And when Caleb kissed him again, while stroking both of their erections with one hand, slowly up and down, it was like a sizzling heat only waiting to explode into something hotter.


	4. Scourging Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very enlightening and enticing session ends, with both wizards having expanded their horizon...

Essek panted harshly into Caleb’s mouth, chasing his tongue and lips. The backrest dug into his shoulder blades, and his arms hurt from instinctively trying to pull them forward. He wanted to wrap them around the other man, hold him, touch him.

He was on the chair, and he was in charge - technically, because he could end this any time - but he was not in control. It was frustrating and liberating at the same time.   
The kiss grew more desperate, and Caleb’s ministrations slightly sloppier, but still firm and determined. 

Sometimes, he halted his movement, rubbing a thumb over Essek’s tip. It made the drow jerk on the chair, and he was aware he filled the air with more and more sounds of pleasure. Whimpers. Moans. Curses in Undercommon. Caleb’s name. 

The other hand started touching Essek’s skin, caressing over the silken flesh, teasing his nipples with care, broad strokes down his torso interrupted by a thumb on his lower lip.   
Caleb stopped.

He felt the man shiver, he heard him pant.

“Is this still good for you?” The other wizard asked Essek. “Is it.. Okay to go all the way? To touch you even inside?”

The Shadowhand licked his lips, frowning behind the blindfold. All of this had already taken the most exquisite turns, and he enjoyed himself greatly on this chair. Not something he would have ever been able to anticipate when this afternoon’s teaching lesson started, but oh so much more intriguing.

“I am curious about what else you are going to do.. Your determination in your ministrations is highly pleasuring,” he answered with a smirk, still acutely aware of that hand around his erection, and his pulse racing, his heart hammering.

“That is a yes, ja?” Caleb asked again, his hand twitching around their aroused flesh. 

“Yes. Do it. Go all the way - but please, do ask if you plan on doing anything more exotic.”

Hot lips kissed his throat. “I will,” Caleb whispered, and his hand gave a harsh squeeze, making Essek throw back his head with a pleased hiss.  Lazily, the other man rubbed his thumb over his glans again, smearing the first drops of pre-cum gently. 

Essek did not approve when the hand vanished. He felt Caleb bow down and to his side, his weight shifting to the right, maybe picking up something from the floor.   
When the hand returned, it was slick, and it spread this slickness in soft and careful motions onto his erection, lathering it in a wicked, glorious way. 

New anticipation filled the Shadowhand, when Caleb stood, but his thighs still pressed sideways against his. He must be shifting forward, because he felt the other man’s cock touch his torso, while his hands gripped Essek’s shoulders for support.  
One of them vanished down between them, gripping the drow’s dark erection, holding it..

Slowly, Caleb sank onto Essek’s erect penis, making him hiss in pleasure, firing up his whole body good. The insides of the other wizard were firm and hot and tight, drawing a whimper from him, and a growl he was not used to hearing from himself. Clearly, he should ‘exercise’ more often.

His arms pulled against the restraints, the need to touch the other man too strong to suppress it. He heard an almost wry chuckle. Caleb moved a little up and down, testingly, and he moaned in the most enticing way. His first moan, if Essek was correct, and he licked his lips again.

Another surprised hiss escaped his throat, when something was suddenly inside him, a thick, strange feeling of being filled. And it moved! It moved and stroked him, teased him, and then Caleb moved up and down again, closing Essek’s mouth with his lips, luring him into another one of those burning kisses. 

His mind was still occupied with how this man was able to be inside him, when it hit him: Mage Hand.  
Essek laughed into the kiss with disbelief, drawing a puzzled sound from the other wizard. How was this man able to juggle a Mage Hand spell while being involved in highly sexual doings?

Thumbs rubbed over his nipples. Caleb lifted himself and sank down again. The Mage Hand found a much too delicious spot inside him at the same time, and Essek jerked harshly, crying out with relish, sparks filling his vision and heat flooding his body, a wave so scorching hot, it almost unraveled him entirely.

“I will not last long, if you keep this up,” he breathed, trying to collect himself.

Caleb kissed his brow, his temple, his mouth. “It is not required you do,” he said, his voice a dark rasp now.   
He did the same again, dropping Essek in another pool of heat, and again, and again.   
His soul was as aflame as was his body, head to toe, simmering in this scorching heat inside and around him, this luscious, consuming fire. 

And it exploded into stars at the seventh time, making him lift his hips with a low, harsh moan.   
He felt something hot on his belly while he came in waves into Caleb, his tight ass still around him, everything pure bliss, coming undone together. 

The moment stretched, then shattered, leaving them panting heavily, Caleb crushing on him, his glorious sweat-wet skin creating an almost painful friction against his oversensitive body.   
Hands fumbled behind his head, and the dark scarf fell away.   
Essek looked at the man in front of him, still sitting on his lap, the red hair slightly damp with sweat, cheeks burning with heat, the blue eyes dark and beautiful and the lips wet and swollen. 

Essek wondered, what he himself looked like in this quite disheveled state, but he was too distracted by the fire he saw in Caleb’s eyes, by the passion and satisfaction, by the strength and confidence. Another shadow of the past? Was this a glimpse at how he’d been in his time at the Academy?  
Or was this his doing, his efforts to quench some of Caleb’s demons by offering himself to them?

When the shyness returned to the other wizard’s face, the Shadowhand guessed it was more a case of the first assumption.   
Warm fingers touched his face, calling for his attention.

“That was.. Very different from other lessons. You ah.. Enjoyed yourself?”

Essek raised an eyebrow. “Immensely, yes. It does look like you found quite the satisfaction yourself.”

Caleb blushed - now, of all the times! - and smiled warmly. “Oh yes. Very. I think I learned important things today. Thank you, Essek. I am in your debt again.”  
Reluctantly, the man bent forward and kissed him, still with a hint of dominance. So delicious.

“Oh. I should untie you. Please pardon my negligence..” Flustered, Caleb rose quite wobbly and stalked around the chair to unbind Essek’s wrists and arms. 

It had started to hurt, and he was indeed relieved to be free again. Rubbing his wrists, the Shadowhand slowly stood.   
This would probably leave some very prominent marks.

He found his pants and socks lying thoroughly folded on the other chair and couldn't help but shake his head with a low chuckle. “You are most accurate and diligent, Caleb. It astounds me ever so often how this shows in so many things you do.”

Turning around, he saw Caleb leaning still a bit shakily against the desk, positively glowing. His gaze was shy, yes, but his eyes… they were shining. It suited him.

“May I.. clean you? I’m sorry about your wrists.. They look beleaguered,” the human said, a hint of regret in his voice.

Essek smiled smugly. “Ah, but such is the price I gladly pay today. Do not bother.” Snipping his fingers, he cleaned himself up with closed eyes. Prestidigitation was, after all, a very useful cantrip.

They both got dressed properly again, without leaving a trace of their doings. They cleaned the floor, placed the rug back where it belonged and undid the protective spell Essek had cast earlier.

Gathering his coat, the drow slipped back into his levitation spell. “I shall leave you to your own devices now. It was a most delightful session today.” He gave a nod.

“Do you think we will have more like these?” Caleb asked.

Essek’s smile turned devious. “Time will show. I learned a very intriguing way of using Mage Hand today. I wonder what else your clever mind might have in stow. Good evening, Caleb.”

“Good evening, _ Shadowhand _ Essek.”

The drow was not quite sure, but this did sound like a challenge...


End file.
